It's late when Andrea parks the Twingo in a dark corner of the parking lot. Raindrops caress the ink black surface of the Garda lake that expands into the distance next to the car. A hooded figure is waiting for us at the entrance to the street. Eugenia, a childhood...

It’s almost 10pm when Andrea and I stop at a Penny supermarket a little off the German autobahn somewhere around Frankfurt. We’ve been driving the entire afternoon after meeting at the infamous Liège train station, where Andrea managed to free some space in the...